The Midnight Rider Takes A Bride. Christine Rimmer
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saying?”
Adora gulped, feeling answering tears rising, willing them down. “She’s gone, honey.”
Tiffany gulped in a breath. And then she let it out on a tight little moan. “No...”
Jed rubbed his eyes. “Aw, Tiff...”
Tiffany turned to him again, her soft lips quivering, but her chin held high. “Gone. You mean...dead?”
Jed only nodded.
“Mom?” she whispered. “Mom’s dead....”
And then, with a cry, she flung herself against her brother. She grabbed a handful of his black vest in each of her small fists, and she pressed her face against him, at that shining silver cross. “No,” she said softly.
“Yeah,” Jed whispered tack.
“No!”
This time, Jed said nothing.
But Tiffany couldn’t stop. “No,” she said. “No, no, no, no...” over and over, as if by saying it so many times, she might bring Lola back.
Soon enough, the nos became sobs. And the tears spilled over.
Adora stood there, feeling useless, aching for both of them, as Tiffany cried and Jed held her, rocking her like a baby, stroking the smooth red-brown cap of her hair.
Finally, Tiff calmed a little. She pulled away from Jed. Adora spotted a box of tissues on a side table. She went and got it. Tiff took a handful. She dried her eyes and blew her nose, hiccupping a little, trying to bear up.
Watching her, Adora couldn’t help recalling her own foolish, self-indulgent tears earlier that afternoon and feeling that her own problems weren’t much at all compared to this. She also wondered about the precious minutes she’d kept Jed in her apartment, listening to her woes and drinking champagne. Could those minutes have made a difference? If she’d told Jed right away about where Lola had gone, might they have found her in time to save her life?
Tiff blew her nose for the third time, then scooted over closer to Jed and patted the space where she’d been. “Sit by us, Dory. Please.”
Adora pushed her guilty thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time to ponder them. She sat next to Tiff. With a torn little sigh, Tiff leaned against her for a moment. Then she leaned the other way, against Jed, who wrapped an arm around her and rested his bearded chin on the crown of her head.
“What happened?” Tiff asked. And a sob escaped her. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, composing herself. Then she took a deep breath. “Please tell me. I want to know.”
Without going into too much detail, they told the sad story. Jed was explaining that it would be a day or two before they knew for sure why Lola had died, when they heard footsteps on the front walk. The curtains of the front window were open. From where he sat, Jed could see the porch and the steps leading up to it. He glanced out—and swore low, with feeling.
Tiff stared up at him. “Who is it?” She turned to look out the window, then moaned. “Oh, no.”
Adora turned to see, but the angle was wrong. Whoever it was had moved out of her line of vision and stood right at the door. The visitor knocked.
Jed pulled his sister just a little closer to his side and caught Adora’s eye. “Answer it, will you?”
“No!” Tiff sounded childish, even petulant suddenly, not at all like the incredibly gallant girl who had asked so bravely to be told how her mother had died.
But Jed was nodding grimly. “We’ll have to deal with her eventually. There’s no sense in trying to pretend we won’t.”
Tiff sniffed in outrage and whirled on Jed. “But—”
“Shh.” He smoothed her hair, then looked at Adora. “Go ahead. Please.”
Adora got up and pulled open the door.
On the porch stood Charity Laidlaw, who was Tiffany’s aunt—as well as the woman who had once accused Jed of rape.
Three
Behind Charity and off to the side a little stood her husband Morton, looking miserable.
Charity spoke first, which was no surprise to anyone.
“Hello, Adora.” Even in greeting, her tone left no room for compromise.
“Hello, Mrs. Laidlaw.”
It was odd, Adora thought. Charity had nice, even features, cornflower blue eyes and ash blond hair that curled softly around her face. She’d kept her figure slim. She should have been attractive. But she wasn’t. She was too self-righteous to be good-looking.
“May we come in?”
Adora glanced at Jed, giving him one more chance to change his mind. But Jed only nodded. So Adora stepped back and pushed open the screen.
“We’ve heard the terrible news,” Charity intoned as she entered, followed at a respectful distance by her browbeaten spouse. “And we’ve come to take our poor niece home with us.” Charity caught sight of Jed right then. Her finely cut nostrils flared, as if she smelled something bad.
Jed and Tiff stood as one.
“Tiff is home, Charity.” Jed seemed to take pleasure in calling Tiff’s aunt by her given name, which few, if any, in Red Dog City ever dared to do. “And I’m here, so I’ll take care of her.”
One corner of Charity’s pretty upper lip lifted a fraction, in a sort of well-bred snarl. “That is the most absurd suggestion I have ever heard.”
“It’s not a suggestion. It’s a fact.”
Charity looked at Tiff, her expression turning marginally kinder. “Tiffany. Dear—”
Tiff hunched closer to Jed. “I’m staying here, with my brother.”
Charity emitted a harumph of impatience. “But that’s impossible, dear. Your brother lives out in the woods in that primitive cabin of his. And questionable men work for him. He’s not set up to care for an impressionable young girl.”
“We’ll manage, Charity.” Jed’s tone was deceptively gentle, as always. But his eyes gave away his true feelings. They were twin points of dry ice. “I’ve got my own room here, over the garage. I’ll move in there full-time. It can all be worked out.”
Charity drew her shoulders back so far it was a surprise she didn’t fall over backward. And when she spoke, it was with great care, as if she were putting everything she had into her effort to remain civil. “But you’re gone all day. The child will run wild.”
Tiff jumped in, insulted. “I don’t run wild.”
Charity sighed. “Now, Tiffany, I know how upset you are and I—”
“No. No, you don’t. You don’t know anything. You’re a mean, old—”
Jed coughed and gave Tiffs shoulder a squeeze. Tiff fell silent.
Charity drove her point home. “You cannot be alone all day long, and that is that.”
Tiff looked up at Jed, pleading with her eyes. But Jed said nothing. Adora knew what he must be thinking: that it wouldn’t be right for Tiff to go completely unsupervised all day, every day. It was a problem, one to which he had no immediate solution.
But Adora did. “Look. I’m just around the corner. I can keep an eye on Tiff during the day, the same as Lola did, from the shop.”
Charity drew in a sharp, indignant breath and focused her narrowed eyes on Adora. If looks could do harm, Adora would have needed medical attention on the spot.
Tiffany crowed in triumph. “See? Dory will help.” She looked up at her brother, her eyes full of fevered hope. “I’ll be with you, won’t I,